


Death of a Saleswoman

by GiantTribble



Category: Den Lille Pige med Svovlstikkerne | The Little Match Girl - Hans Christian Andersen, Original Work
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-01
Updated: 2013-11-01
Packaged: 2017-12-31 03:07:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1026542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GiantTribble/pseuds/GiantTribble
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Little Match Girl for the space age.</p><p>Part 2 of Captain Von Heisenberg's Flight-Time Stories</p>
            </blockquote>





	Death of a Saleswoman

 

> "But friend, we come too late. It's true that the gods live,  
>  But up over our heads, up in a different world.  
>  They function endlessly up there, and seem to care little  
>  If we live or die, so much do they avoid us.  
>  A weak vessel cannot hold them forever; humans can  
>  Endure the fullness of the gods only at times. Therefore  
>  Life itself becomes a dream about them. But perplexity  
>  And sleep assist us: distress and night-time strengthen,  
>  Until enough heroes have grown in the bronze cradle,  
>  With hearts as strong as the gods', as it used to be."  
>  \- Friedrich Hölderlin - 'Bread and Wine'

 

                Once upon a time there was a young girl who went from door to door, selling useful things to friendly people from strange star systems. Some of these strangers had ears that came to a point at the top, as opposed to being round, like those of most Terran people. She delighted in showing the handsome lords and beautiful ladies her wares, and they clapped with joy when they saw how a _Tariek_ torpedo could vaporize a hypertitanium ship at three times the range of their extant weaponry. The ladies were tickled green at the Lumiel lights she showed them, warm bubbles of radiance that followed their bearer and drew energy from the people around them.

               It was a nice job, if you could get it. But not everybody could. Tasha’s friends mostly flipped burgers after school. But Tasha inherited the sales job at Von Heisenberg Technologies from her mom. It was a nice job, but Tasha missed her mom, and her job meant that she couldn’t go to high school – not that she’d want to. Besides, the money was too good for her to stop. And now that the First Dokkar Conflict was over, she was out of a job.

                A few months passed by, and she didn’t know what was going on. The nurse here in Alphata 3’s lone walk-in clinic couldn’t find anything wrong with her, until she had a very fat baby boy named Jonathan. The nurse thought that little Jonathan’s ears were awfully pointy for a Terran’s, and that the blood he had been covered in was an odd shade of purple, unlike hers. Either way, he was a very pretty and friendly baby and Tasha finally had another person to share the apartment with. She was so distracted by the baby that when she’d heard of the big stock market crash, it was too late. There was only one thing Tasha could do, and that was to sell the rest of her Lumiel lights here on Alphata.

-          -

3281 Anno Terrae.

               The highway stretched out before her, a smoothed ribbon in the grey desert as Tasha’s beat-up truck cruised a few inches above the dry, hard ground. Above her, Alphata’s twin suns shone blindingly white through a thin atmosphere created by half-assed terraforming. Around her, there were mining towers made tiny by distance. And not a single person in the mining camps wanted to buy Lumiel lights today. Or for the past week, rather. _Fuck this._ Tasha stared into the salt-bitter distance, her prematurely line-ridden black eyes hunting in vain for any camp she hadn’t yet visited.

                She continued driving. _Might as well head on home._ Her truck was packed with the little lamps, but neither she nor the baby could eat lamps. The twin suns were going down as she pulled in next to her single-wide trailer. Strangely silent, Tasha thought as she stepped inside.

                “Jonathan?” She looked in the crib, where the little half-breed slept peacefully. His fair skin was sallow, as opposed to the usual blood-green blush of a healthy young … man. Tasha put her finger on the side of his neck. Jonathan was ice cold.

                Before the first light of dawn, Tasha tamped down the earth over little Jonathan’s grave, a meager patch of salt-ridden land behind her trailer. _Well, that’s the end of that. I guess I’m not that teen mom anymore. No more worries about the kid getting his little Dokkar ass kicked at school. And now, as they used to say, is the beginning of the rest of my life._ She started packing up things in her trailer, thinking of what she could sell to keep the heat on.  Lights, she wasn’t worried about, but nights on the desert planet went to 30 below. Say what you want about those Lumiel bastards, she thought, but at least they were masters of light without heat. Just my luck.

            The highway stretched out before her, a smooth ribbon of grey in a parched land. Alphata’s twin suns hung low in the afternoon sky, shining a tiny bit warmer than before, a little bit more golden. The air streaming through her thin, ash-pale hair was mild and autumnal, but with a hint of frost that suggested an impending drop in temperature. Tasha cruised, the speedometer skewed sharply to the right of anything she might do on a given day. But she didn’t care.

            The low-pitched hum of engines sounded in the distance as Tasha approached the drilling site. They were scattered all along the ragged edge of the Kianu desert, where swirling sands met the packed dirt upon which towns were built. She drove up to the edge of the rig site, a few Lumiel lights floating around her as she left the warmth of the car. The sun was starting to set, and a bitter chill filled the air.

            A burly worker in a grey uniform and white helmet came up to meet Tasha. She looked tired, her face was lined and grayish from the bright sun and harsh winds.

            “What’s up?” The worker spoke with a broad, Alphatan twang.

            “Hi, I’m Tasha Vilatte, formerly of Von Heisenberg. I’m here to see if anyone’s interested in some Lumiel lights.”

            “Yeah, how much are they?” Tasha’s heart skipped a beat. Maybe she was going to actually sell one.

            “Two bucks apiece. I’ll give you five for six.”

            “Hmm. Not too shabby. You say these lights run on atmospheric energy?”

            “Yes. You don’t have to charge them at all, they pick up solar during the day and when that’s out, they run on ambient body heat from people and animals around them.”  
            “They run on heat? It’s cold as hell out here.” The helmeted woman laughed, a bit horse-like. “Lumiel lights, better on Lum than here.”

            “Yeah, I know, right? Still, five for six. You won’t get that kind of a deal in town.”

            “True. Tell you what. I’ll take five of them.”

            Tasha pushed the first in the chain of Lumiel lights and they followed the oil worker, being encapsulated in her infrared field, orbiting her as planets orbited their source of energy.

            “Wow. Not too bad after all. I guess I’ll tell the others about them. Wait a while. Here’s six credits.” The helmeted woman handed Tasha a handful of credit chits. “It’s probably a good idea for you to wait in the car; it’s starting to get really cold around here.”

            Tasha waited in the car for fifteen minutes. Then half an hour. Then an hour. Then she realized that the oilmen had probably gone in for the night, the hum of the rig having died down to a bare minimum. She drove into the darkness, her headlights illuminating the rocky desert, then shining her way back to onto the grey ribbon of highway leading deeper into the desert wildness.

  * * *



            Tasha sat in the café’s outdoor area, drinking a thick, dark blood-green beverage that reminded her of strong Terran coffee. Apparently it was called _bashan_ , or something that sounded like it. Either way, it was pretty good. The translator attached to her ear wasn’t too good for translating from Dokkar to Basic, like it was the other way around. But at least it tried – something that no Republican translation unit would.

“Mind if I sit here?” It took a few minutes for Tasha’s translator to register what had been said, but the intent was clear as a young, dark-haired man sat down across from her. He had been in the audience at the demonstration at Ch’ – something – Hall. But she had seen him a few times before that.   
            “Sure, why not? Hi, I’m Tasha Vilatte, of Alphata 3, in case we’ve met before.”

“Hi Tahshan.” He emphasized the last syllable, making her name sound like _bashan_ , which both of them were drinking. “I am Evdani cheValas and I remember that you sold me some very nice equipment.” Evdani smiled, and his faintly golden eye seemed to glimmer.

Tasha smiled back. “Evdani, I am glad to be of service. Even during this unfortunate conflict that our communities are having.”

“It is unfortunate that such a conflict is occurring. Making protection necessary. Maybe too much protection, which keeps us apart.” He looked at her intently. “Too apart. Tell me, Tahshan, how do you feel, living here on Kochab Ulfarg, as a person of your race?”

         Tasha couldn’t say anything. Every day, she tried to be home at a certain time, staying away from the crowds that would hiss enemy! Enemy! at her round-eared self. She was smaller than most Dokkar people, yet chose to live in an enclave of Terran defectors for safety’s sake. “You have no idea, Evdani. I – cannot describe it to you. It is too bad.”

“Tahshan, I had a cousin who once lived in the Terran Republic. She is called ‘Kayley’, and is some sort of radio deejay in the Outer Rim. So this discrimination, is like all very familiar to me. I once wished to meet a Terran girl…”

         Tasha had been here for more than a year, but she was lonely. She didn’t get along with most of the Terran people living here because they were mostly old, business types. This Evdani character wasn’t just any Dokkar. She looked at him, at the wave of his raven hair, at the elegant planes of his pale, green-tinged face, at his height and bulk that was not extreme, but appealing enough to her.

“Tell me, Tasha…I would like to know you better.”

“And I would…” Something inside her told Tasha: you don’t know this person, don’t. Stay in your corner. “I would like to know you better.”

“In my culture, it is proper for a gentleman to offer a lady a place to spend the night. I understand this is considered a bit ‘forward’ in Terran culture, but since we already know one another, and you have already been to my home…”

Tasha didn’t know when she would get to meet someone again. “Okay. I’m down with that.”

  * **



           Tasha drove on the lonely highway, Alphata’s single moon casting a pale half-light on the dry landscape. Stars, all too familiar, shone overhead. She could see the constellations through the clear, thin atmosphere. There was the lamb, and the oil rig, and the space shuttle. Unique constellations, made up by generations of miners and oil workers over bottles of bad local lager and stale ganja. Nothing like the ones on old Terra, and not like on Kochab Ulfarg – the Wolf Star – either.

           She rested her foot on the pedal and just cruised, looking at the flat, dry, barren, stark world around her. She saw a glimmering in the distance, the sure sign of a camp in the distance. Clients. Yes, more clients to buy her useless Lumiel lights. The temperature was dropping, and Tasha’s breath became the shadow of a cloud in the air. She stepped on the pedal and drove rapidly toward the distant encampment.

            There were people in the camp, unlike the other one. They were going about their business, and forbidding guards in heavy, black battle armor guarded the rig. Tasha could hear voices and … music? Somebody launched fireworks in one corner of the encampment. She remembered. Today was Winter Solstice, which is why the other camp closed up early. Most people had off. She had forgotten about the holiest holiday in the year.

             Tasha closed her eyes and huddled under a thermal blanket. She got a bottle of brandy from the glove compartment, drank deeply, and dreamed.

  * ** 



             It was winter solstice, and Tasha sat in a corner of an unfamiliar room, looking out of an unfamiliar window. She knew where she was. She looked at the clock, which displayed both day and time. Her translation eyepiece instantly recognized the Dokkar date. It was winter solstice, and her seventeenth birthday. She rose, looked around the room, and saw a pile of papers on a desk.

           Tasha’s Dokkar script skills were rusty, but her eyepiece provided the information she needed. Memorandum. For Evdani cheValas, director of Dokkar Security for the Ulfarg sector. She drew in her breath sharply. She remembers this place now, coming to sell some guns, some defense applications. She remembers an elegant, attractive woman named Yelingani, who served her aniseed wine in the manner of a traditional Dokkar bride. She had not known who cheValas was, hoping that he’d simply been a local man of means.

           Tasha’s heart beat quickly. She put on her clothes, which were strewn all over the bed, saw a small stairway, and walked down quickly. Her heart sped up as she entered the first floor, hoping that nobody else would be around. She heard footsteps, opened a side entrance, and shut the door as quietly as she could before running down the snow-covered street.

  * ** 



            The music from the camp got louder as the men started cheering. She heard gunshots, fired in joy. Nobody came up to her to ask for any wares, even though she was the only stranger for miles. Tasha took another sip of brandy. The car was running out of power, both shialite and electric. Maybe she could freeze to death tonight, and nobody would care. It would be better that way. She’d have nothing to worry about anymore.

             She heard a knocking on the door of her car, and looked out of the window. A small robot, covered in rust and looking forlorn. She opened the window.

“I’m sorry, bunny, but I don’t have any shialite or electric.”

“Do you have anything at all for me? It’s the winter solstice, and I’ve been in the desert for a month.”

“What happened to your owner?”

“I don’t know.” The dust bunny droid was about to power down. “If you have anything at all?” Tasha thought for a while.

“All I have are these Lumiel lights. You can have as many as you want.”

“Lumiel? I know what they are. They have duolite. Duolite is food for me.”

            Tasha handed him a couple of lights and he cracked them like a man eating lobster, feasting on the rich deposits of duolite inside them like a starving man. She gave him some more. And more.

“Is that enough?”

“Oh, yes. Very much so.” Tasha felt like a Dokkar dervish, one of those legendary ones that subsisted on air and gave away their possessions to be close to the Elements. Like the old man who’d walked on hot coals in a public square on Kochab Ulfarg. He had been very skinny, and seemed mad, to her provincial Terran eyes.

“Can I bring a friend?” Dust bunnies had friends? She just knew the little robots from the cities, carrying things for their wealthy owners. She hadn’t met any free ones until now.

“I suppose so.”

A few silences passed, and a group of three hungry dust bunnies rammed into her car, clamoring for Lumiel lights until Tasha began angrily throwing them at the little mites.

“Here! Have them all. I’ve no use for them.” One of the little droids jumped into her window, narrowly missing hitting her right in the nose, and rustled up a bunch of lights that had been hiding under the seats. The bunnies left shells everywhere, sucking up duolite like they’d never seen duolite before. Tasha’s entire car was totally messed up, and when she got all the creatures out of there, she rolled up her windows and continued to drink brandy.

              Her eyes drifted shut. And she heard music in the distance, and a distant booming sound. She knew that the music wasn’t for her. But what of the other? She drove slowly, careful not to use up the last of her power. A flash occurred. She thought: was this some sort of mine explosion? Sparks, tiny impacts, fell across her bulletproof windshield and Tasha bent down instinctively into a fetal position, keeping possible broken glass from hitting her face.

              And then it stopped. She opened her eyes and saw sparkles in the windshield, as if diamonds had fallen from the sky. She saw a large stone in the distance. Tasha carefully opened the car door and picked up one of the pieces that had fallen on her windshield. It was clear, hard as diamond, with an iridescent shimmer. Shialite. Precious fuel, culled from meteors and asteroid belts deep in the heart of space. Not often found on planetside.

              Tasha gathered up some of the pieces and put them in her shialite tank. They grew warm and glowed, proving their authenticity. Tasha didn’t know where it came from, but it was the real McCoy. She walked up to the large meteor and found that it was covered in shialite, with golden and silvery streaks. It was an unusual meteor to be sure. Tasha grabbed a mineral scanner from her pants pocket and scanned a piece of the meteor. Shialite – and gold, and platinum, and all rare things. This was one meteorite for sure. There was over five hundred pounds of the precious materials inside. If she brought the meteorite back to  town, it would have a total value of over a million credits.

               Tasha gathered up all the pieces she could find and crammed them in the trunk and back seat of her car, filling the spaces with precious shialite. She placed the meteorite’s location on her digipad, registered herself as its rightful owner and placed a picture there, and drove back to town, in the direction of the grey, predawn light. There was something to live for, after all. Tasha let a smile creep across her face. She drove past the oil rigs, past a small group of dust bunnies traveling across the desert. She closed her eyes and felt a sense of security wrap around her like a warm blanket in the cold landscape.

 


End file.
